


The Call

by Foxboots



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: EOS is sneaky, I guess this could be read as a reader insert, IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE THIS LONG, Virgil's helmet, scotts a fashion guru, shout out to ma wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxboots/pseuds/Foxboots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EOS finds an emergency and Scott is chosen for it</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Call

At the sudden beeping and EOS’s calls for "John, wake up! There's an emergency!”: John sprung up - forgetting about the lack of gravity - and overshot himself into the air and wall on the other side of his room. “John, I'm picking up distress signals from 18 Regent Street in London.” John looked it up and saw it was a fairly rural place within the city. Houses lined the streets which meant there wasn't much room for Thunderbird Two, so John concluded that this was a task for Thunderbird One. Getting comms. up he called for Scott.

"Scott! Scott, wake up - there's an emergency!” his call was answered with a groggy yet worried tone.  
"J-John," Scott yawned. "What seems to be the problem?” John answered Scott's question as the eldest brother began to get ready in his uniform; donning his hand-knitted sweater and gloves (because it was winter and Grandma Tracy looked after her boys). With his suit on and his sweater with 'Grandma's Favourite Reckless Child’ written on the back, along with his pink and blue gloves, he went to Thunderbird One while John informed the eldest on the situation.

There wasn't much to go on but EOS was absolutely adamant on it. They had to go there and then. The AI insisted it was of utmost importance and that John must send someone there, and Scott was the chosen one. With all brothers woken up and ready, Scott pulled the lights down and headed off to Thunderbird One. 

Once in the hangar, in front of Thunderbird One, Scott climbed in and set the address coordinates and flew. 

~in London~

A girl, aged 17, was struggling. ‘What to wear? What to wear?’ Was all that was going through her mind. She had texted her best friend stating it was an emergency and she needed help - all the help she could get. What was her emergency? What should she wear to her date? After weeks of pining over her crush asking her out, she now had five hours to go before the designated time that she had to arrive by and she had nothing to wear. 

EOS was scanning for emergencies when she came across this. Going through the messages, she determined it was an emergency and proceeded to wake John up - giving the spaceman all of the needed information except that it was a teenage girl wardrobe problem. That was important. 

Scott had just landed Thunderbird One in the street. He was outside the house. Everything looked normal. Getting out he cautiously made his way to the door step and knocked. He waited, then knocked again. He heard the frantic steps rushing to the door and got ready for whoever or whatever was opposite him. When the door still didn't open he got ready to kick the door in. Foot raised high in the air, the door suddenly opened. With that he lost his balance and fell down the steps that lead up to the house - with the person in the doorway looking at him as if he were crazy. 

His helmet, which wasn't actually his (it was Virgil's), went wonky and almost fell off as he sat at the bottom of the stairs looking up to a girl who must've been in her teens, dressed in a bathrobe with curls in her hair and some weird green stuff on her face. Her face showed confusion and fear from the strange man outside on her doorstep while he showed a mixture of fear - from what was on her face - and annoyance: from falling into a small puddle. A muddy puddle.  
Getting up, he introduced himself by his name and asked for her's and what the emergency was.   
“Bethany.” was all the female gave. She then thought her bestie had sent some clothes guru over to help her decide on an outfit. Explaining her problem, this ‘Scott’ looked taken aback. Was he not here to help her? She thought.  
Not realising she voiced her thought out loud, Scott replied with:  
"I'm from International Rescue. I was informed of an urgent emergency at this address." Bethany looked down, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over her, and a pang of sadness as this person would not be able to help her. 

“Just out of curiosity, what was the emergency? Our systems said it was an urgent one." Scott asked her. Bethany's eyes lit up.  
"I needed help with choosing what to wear on my date!” She exclaimed. Scott could see this was an important date, and from what he could tell, a first date.  
"I'll help you.” Scott told her. It took a minute to sink in that Bethany now had someone to help. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him into the house - leaving Scott to wildly swing at the door to close it while being dragged off to who knows where. (He succeeded in closing the door so he counted it as a win).

After being dragged up a flight of stairs, Scott was brought to a room covered in clothes. They were everywhere - and Scott meant everywhere. It was worse than Alan's room. After being seated, the blonde went off to the bathroom with an armful of clothes and reemerged after a few minutes wearing a summer dress.  
"Well? What do you think?” she asked, giving a twirl. Scott grimaced: the dress was an ugly yellow and puffed out at the bottom.  
"Er... maybe not that.” he said cautiously. With a pout she turned around to change into the next outfit: jeans and a tank top. Showing the outfit off for Scott, she turned around to face him and saw his expression. He looked like he was in pain. A flat out "No.” was his response. The process repeated: Bethany would try something on and Scott would say no. This continued until thirty minutes before her date was meant to show up. 

Scott, bored and tired, got up and grabbed a plaid shirt and dark blue jeans. He shoved the items into her hands and sent her out to change. While changing, he grabbed a make up kit and some accessories and set up a mini work bench. 

Contacting one Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward for assistance, he got out the correct makeup needed: eyeshadow; eyeliner; lipstick; and foundation. By the time it was all set up, Bethany had come out and sat down in the chair.  
"Right, face me little lady and we'll get this all done and dusted and then you can be free to go out on your date.” Scott said, rubbing his hands together and picking up the first instrument of torture. Some struggling later and her makeup was flawless. 

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door. Scott, being the gentleman he is, went to answer it and also scare the man that would be opposite the door. Except it wasn't a man: it was a woman - stood outside, dressed in a band shirt, leather jacket and jeans with an eyebrow raised. 

“Who are you?” The brunette questioned Scott, who in turn asked her who she was. “I asked you first.” was the girl's answer with a sly smirk. Still, she gave her name and said she was here for Bethany – her date. Oh. Oh! Scott thought, giving her a once over. He approved of her outfit choice and went to get the other female down. 

Both women were standing by the door; Scott inside and them on the outside. "Right, no funny business - treat her with respect or else, missy. And I want her back home by 11pm.” He told the brunette and turned to the blonde. “Be safe little duckling and call if you need help.” He handed a card over with a number and then sent the two lovebirds out. 

After watching them go Scott closed the door, locked it and went to Thunderbird One. After climbing in he reported that the emergency had been successfully resolved and all was well. However when he got back to the island, Scott thought, he should have words with EOS about what classified as an emergency - just so he wouldn't have to play fashion guru anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> The grammar fairy strikes again, meaning tinglingsquidsense beta'd this


End file.
